


For A Fleeting Moment You Were Mine

by lbk_princen



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Unrequited Crush, roy is whipped but maes has a gf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 13:30:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17726111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lbk_princen/pseuds/lbk_princen
Summary: Roy Pines Tragically Over Maes *slams down microphone* TWO!!!!!!





	For A Fleeting Moment You Were Mine

There were hundreds of instances where Roy had considered kissing Hughes. 

Back when they were cadets he would glare at Hughes’ back, and whenever he turned enough for Roy to see his profile Roy would envision himself pushing Hughes against the nearest wall and pressing their lips together in a declaration of passion. Other times, Roy would imagine Hughes pushing  _ him _ against the wall, and when that happened he had to force himself to look away, cheeks burning. 

When Hughes came to support Roy in getting his state alchemist certification, too, Roy had considered it. He remembered coming out of the examination, nerves electrified and skin hot from the recent proximity to his alchemy-made flames. Hughes had been waiting just outside; he asked Roy some eager questions about how it went and clapped the alchemist on the back. Roy had wiped his brow and offered a smile, his anxiety dissolving into the familiar warmth he experienced any time Hughes touched him, no matter how briefly. 

Between the day they met and the day Maes Hughes died, Roy had considered kissing him hundreds of times. He only ever went through with it once.

They were both drunk, returned from their tour in the Ishvalan homeland for over nine months. Maes was on leave for a fractured wrist, and Roy had persuaded him to come visit East city for a day or two. They’d been at the bar for nearly four hours, catching up and laughing together in person for the first time in a while. Maes talked incessantly about his fiancee, showing pictures of her and gushing about her every aspect from her smile to her cooking to her insight and everything in between. Roy listened with a mixture of annoyance, humour, and petty jealousy. He teased Maes in return, wrapping his barbs in the plausible deniability of friendly banter.

“Fine, fine, I geeeet it, you’ve heard enough about  _ me,” _ Maes stated, over-pronouncing his words. “How’s  _ youuur _ love life, m’ster hot stuff? Get it? Hot stuff? Like fire - flame - y’know?” 

Roy laughed at the stupid joke, shaking his head and then regretting it when the room kept moving even after his head had stilled. “Shuddup,” he said fondly. “It’s… it’s whatever.” He took another long pull of his seventh beer. If he’d been sober, maybe he would’ve been able to come up with a witty deflection, but in his state at that moment, words slipped out of their own accord. “Sure there’s attractive people, sure. Sure, sure. But none of them are like - like -” for a lack of a description, Roy gestured broadly. He was just able to clamp his teeth down on his traitorous tongue before it could voice what popped into his head next.  _ Like you, Hughes. _

They left the bar ten minutes later, stumbling over each other and giggling like children as they tried to keep themselves and each other on their feet. They finally found their wobbly balance as they hobbled down the cobblestone lanes, Maes with his arm around Roy’s neck and Roy with his fist bunched in Maes’ shirt, between his shoulder blades. At some point Maes started singing. Roy laughed and half-heartedly joined in. Eventually they made it back to Roy’s apartment, where Roy had offered Maes his couch during his stay. He fumbled with the keys, very aware that Maes was watching him and they were still within arm’s reach of each other. Being so close together felt illicit and thrilling. 

“Thanks for letting me stay here,” Maes said. Roy could smell the beer on his breath. “You’re a good man, Roy. You’re my best friend, did you know that?”

Roy swallowed and kept trying to unlock the damn door. He couldn’t think of an answer, his head was buzzing too loudly and his hands were shaking too much.

“Having trouble?” Maes slurred helpfully. He took the keys out of Roy’s hands (warmth bloomed in Roy’s chest when their fingers brushed) and managed to fit the key in the lock after only two tries. The beaming smile he gave as the door swung open melted Roy’s already frazzled brain. He stared, fixated, at Maes’ mouth. Those straight white teeth. Those subtly full lips.

He trailed after Maes into his own apartment, not bothering with the light switch.

“Hughes,” Roy intoned, his voice soft and raspy. He blindly groped forward until he latched onto Maes’ good wrist.

“Yeah, Roy? What?” 

The darkness and familiar smell of his home emboldened Roy. He tugged Maes towards him, and like a clumsy puppy, the other man obligingly stumbled closer. He pressed his back to the closed door and grabbed the front of Maes’ shirt. His heart thudded loudly, erratic and fast. With only the moonlight to see by, he could just make out the shape of Maes’ head, but he could feel the sturdiness of his chest under his hands. He could feel each breath Maes took.

“Roy?” Maes asked, calm but confused. He giggled suddenly and Roy felt the warmth in his chest swell until it was an inferno.

“You - you’re,” Roy stammered. “You’re my best friend too, Hughes. Maes.  _ Maes. _ ” 

Later, when Roy recalled this moment in the throes of horrific embarrassment, he wouldn’t be able to remember making the decision to kiss Maes. It just  _ happened. _ Back to door, hands to chest, lips to lips. It was feverish and drunken and terrible. It was the best kiss Roy had ever had.

Maes seemed lost for a couple seconds, frozen until his brain caught up. He pulled back, breaking the kiss. The men breathed on each other’s faces for a moment, both reeking of beer. Then Maes put his hands over Roy’s hands (again, that warmth) and pulled them away from his chest. Suddenly the heat in Roy’s ribcage vanished, leaving behind a an icy and desperate longing as Maes stepped back.

Roy couldn’t see his expression. He didn’t want to. 

“Roy…” Maes said softly. Roy had never heard his name spoken with such gentleness and apology. 

“Goodnight,” Roy announced, too loud and too heartbroken, but he couldn’t find his voice control anywhere. He marched to his bedroom, and even though he didn’t look back, he left the door open slightly as a silent, hopeful invitation.

He woke up the next afternoon alone in his bed with a headache. 

Maes acted completely normal, like nothing had happened. Except, they knew each other too well, and the way that Maes’ gaze slid away when they’d first made eye contact said everything. He remembered it as well as Roy did. Nothing changed; they went about their day like it had never happened, but it had, and they both knew it, and they both refused to acknowledge it.

Later that month, Maes asked Roy to be the best man at his wedding. Roy agreed, but the only thing he could think about was the way his heart had roared, sandwiched between Maes and the door and Maes’s lips pressed firmly to his own.


End file.
